Page 2 of Stalking Daddy


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I cringe at the title and at how he sees me. I want to throw his coffee in his face and scream at the top of my lungs. Instead, I grip my bowl and stand up from my chair. “You know what? I think I got my days mixed up. I just remembered I have my psych class today.”

Sure, I've dreamed about him being my Daddy many times, only… a different kind.

“Yeah? You should write your schedule down in your calendar so you don't forget or set an alarm. Your first year in college is very important.”

“Yeah, I know. You only remind me five times a day.”

“Only because I care about your future.”

You're not my fucking father.

No, because if he was, all the attraction and attachment I feel would be even more inappropriate, and I'd never lust after my own blood. Only the man wearing my mom's ring on his finger.

“Well I'm a grown ass man and don't need your reminders.” I stomp my foot against the floor like some petulant child.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. “I'll have to increase it to six then to make sure it's really ingrained in you.”

If only he knew college didn't matter. All these classes do is waste my time, but they help me blend in more. Appearing like everyone else prevents too many eyes from being on me. I go to school, I work part-time at a diner, and I mow the lawn. All the things a normal teen does, but I'm anything but. I even have friends and a girlfriend who I struggle to kiss. She asks all the time why I haven't taken things further and I pretend to be a gentleman. I'm not one of those either.

“What would I ever do without you?” Probably have less stained sheets and less hard ons. Thanks to his outfit choice this morning, I can't go anywhere without wanking off first. I walk to the sink and place my dirty dishes inside.

Warm breath heats my neck and Everett's chest presses against my back as his hand reaches around me, setting his coffee cup inside my bowl.

“Good thing you won't ever have to know.”

My heart thuds in my chest and I resist the urge to writhe between him and the counter. If I did, would he finally punish me? Toss me over his lap and redden my ass for being a dirty boy?

Gripping onto the counter, I close my eyes, picturing my mom's smiling face and how happy she was when Everett surprised her with flowers yesterday. As much as I want to try and break him, I can't. Not without hurting her in the process. She deserves better, and I should keep suffering for wanting what belongs to her. Even if it's getting too painful to stay away. My body aches for him when it shouldn't.

It's wrong.

Disgusting.

So am I.

It doesn't matter how much it hurts or how hard it is to breathe when he's near, I have to keep walking away. Even if it kills me.

“See you later, Iggy, and don't fall asleep in class.” He takes a step back and exits the kitchen. As soon as I'm alone, I release the breath I was holding and relax against the counter.

With how on edge he's leaving me, I'll be surprised if I ever fall asleep again.

Irritable and frustrated, I text my friend Ed, asking if he wants to hang out. I need some relief before I burst into flames. My skin is so hot, I can't walk straight. It never goes further than a few hand jobs between us. I'm not attracted to him, and I doubt he cares for me. He closes his eyes the whole time, pretending I don't exist. I prefer it. It helps me disconnect easier as I stare up at the sky, picturing someone else's hands on me. It's the closest I'll ever get to my fantasy becoming a reality. In the short time me and Ed stroke each other, I imagine I'm someone else and Everett is mine.

My phone vibrates in my hand, interrupting my thoughts.

Ed: Sure, meet me in the woods in twenty.

I slide my phone in my pocket and head out the door, walking slowly toward my white Mazda. Nothing I own is too flashy. I don't have any nice clothes or wear any jewelry, except for the necklace Everett gave me after buying my story of being jumped behind a convenience store when I showed up with a busted lip and black eye. It’s attached to a sheath that has a small Fixed Blade knife inside and I keep it hidden under my shirt. If only he knew about the gun I carry in my glove box. Still, I wasn't going to say no to a gift from him. It’s my only way of holding him close to me.

Sirens blare in the background as I get into my car. It's hard to ignore them and I can't help but feel like I shouldn't. Curiosity has me driving toward the noise, following the blinking lights on the other side of the highway. Cops swarm my father's garage, and they are dragging men out one by one with their hands behind their back.

What the fuck is going on? My father has always been careful. His mechanic business was built from the ground up to help hide what he really does for a living. He charges less than what was documented and only accepts cash. It isn’t his only way to launder money, but it is his main one.

I get out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me, rage spiraling in my bones when I see my father on his knees being arrested. He looks at me, his eyes hollow and he wears a hard expression on his face. He mouths something to me and I can't make it out at first. I step closer without being noticed by anyone else.

His lips move again, and I take a step back once I finally realize what he's saying. “Run.”

I rush back to my car, put the keys in the ignition, and head home. As soon as I see the cop car in my driveway, I keep driving and call my mom. She doesn't answer so I dial Everett next. Not sure why. How would he know what's going on? He's a clueless man who doesn't even realize who he's married to.

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